


Frost Me Cafe

by ellie_renee91



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_renee91/pseuds/ellie_renee91
Summary: This was for an AU bingo card challenge on tumblr and the spaces I filled for a bingo were Mob AU/unrequited love, girl/boy next door. Part of the rules were it needed to have a fluffy ending as well
Relationships: Tom Holland (Actor)/You
Kudos: 5





	Frost Me Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> This was for an AU bingo card challenge on tumblr and the spaces I filled for a bingo were Mob AU/unrequited love, girl/boy next door. Part of the rules were it needed to have a fluffy ending as well

With the small bundle of jingle bells rattling against the closing door signaling one of your regulars a farewell, your eyes take in the bustle of the night on the sidewalk on the other side of your windows. 

The floor beneath your feet shakes with the bass blasting nearby, the faint club remixes being heard in the otherwise quietness surrounding you. The fact that you can both hear and feel the music quickly reminds you to restart the playlist you usually have playing and as you pull your phone out of your back pocket you check the time on your phone.

Seeing there’s only 15 minutes until closing, and adding to the fact that no one else is in your shop, you decide to get a jumpstart on the end of the night cleaning list and slide your phone back into your pocket on your way to the front tables.

Once the tables and chairs are wiped down and the books that were forgotten are back on their rightful shelves you move on to the back counter, specifically the coffee machines first.

This little cafe may not seem like much to some people but it’s been a dream of yours since you were little and first started unofficially helping your aunt in her bakery.

You were fresh out of college with your business and accounting degrees when your aunt asked if you wanted to take over the business for her. You had quickly agreed, instantly coming up with ideas to freshen up the place and bring a few more elements into it that had the potential to really make the business succeed in its little area of New York.

Where it was a bakery before you switched and turned it into a cupcake shop, bringing in coffee and tea drinks as well and renaming this place into Frost Me Cafe.

You have worked hard over the years, stretching a small business loan to renovate and really turn this place into what you envisioned for yourself.

Two years ago you added in a small community library of sorts to the back shelves as well. You encourage people to bring in a book they’ve read and no longer want and trade it in for one of the other books on the shelves. You’ve gained a long list of regulars from doing that alone so you can’t help but pat yourself on the back for following through with an idea that came to you as you passed by a used books store a few years ago.

“Closing already?” a smooth accented voice breaks through your thoughts and the silence of the room, halting your arm from wiping the cleaning rag across the espresso machine.

You lift your eyes slowly up from your hands and just barely over the top of the machine can you see the mysterious man you’ve seen a few times a week like clockwork over the past two months standing just inside the door.

You’ve never been one to really know anything about suits, however, it’s clear as day that this guy spends a lot of money to have his suits look that good on him.

It’s insulting really that he just walks around every day in a suit that looks that fucking good, even tonight when he’s not wearing the jacket.

His dress shirt is unbuttoned enough to see the top of the undershirt on his chest, doesn’t have a wrinkle in sight and is as black as the slacks he’s wearing.

His chestnut hair is styled back like it usually is, however, tonight it’s loosened some, a few curls flopping forward begging to have your hands run through them.

Wait… what?

Not aware of how many seconds, or god forbid minutes, have past by in the silence since his question has you clearing your throat and resuming your final cleaning swipes on the machine “Ignoring the fact that we both know you _know_ when I’m out of here every night, I have been closing at 10 since before you moved in next door.”

“Technically I’m below your next door” he corrects, his amused voice closer now.

When you raise your gaze you find yourself resisting the urge to step back, instead tilting your head back ever so slightly to meet his mesmerizing brown eyes. You lick your lips quickly and suck in a soft breath, the cologne he’s wearing teasing your senses “Are you ordering something?”

“You know if you ran a night shift you would make a killing” he states instead of answering your question, his hands working to roll up the sleeves of his shirt to about his mid forearm.

Raising a brow with how comfortable he seems to be making himself, you laugh once and look at him again “Yes I got your unwanted suggestion last month”

Tom smirks confidently at you as he sets his hands on the edge of the counter and leans on his arms “Oh so you found my suggestion, did you? How did you know I was the one that sent it?”

The cocky smirk on his face immediately has you wanting to knock him and his ego down a few pegs. 

You turn around and tidy up the back counter of the few items not in their place, answering him “Yes I did find it, interestingly enough, since I don’t actually have a suggestion box for how I should run my business and I didn’t know,” you look over your shoulder at him and throw your own smirk back at him “But thank you for confirming it was _you_ who dropped the note in my tip jar.”

You turn back around and Tom uses the moment free from your enticing gaze to take a deep breath, slowly releasing it as he grips onto the counter to steady himself.

When Tom had procured the perfect opportunity to be in the middle of the city, with buying the club next door that was in foreclosure, he spent a week scoping out the street and every business on the block.

He was more than sure the cupcake shop next door, to a club no less, had to be a front and he was more than eager to get to the bottom of it.

The day he stepped into your shop plays over and over in his head. Arrogantly he walked in, fully prepared to talk to the owner for however long it took until he knew everything about any unofficial business, when he stopped short.

The sweet smell in the air mixed with the deep caffeinated aroma, of what he would soon find out were the best cappuccinos he’s ever had, quickly filled his senses as he looked around and made his way to the line.

He took in the brightness of the place, the light grey walls with white wainscoting adorning the lower half. The back wall with shelves and shelves of books and a sign informing guests of the one rule of the shop’s community library: _bring one of your own and trade for something new to you_.

Instantly Tom wondered how many people actually follow that honor system and don’t just take the free books for granted when the line moved and he stepped forward, the cynical thought forgotten for the moment.

The closer he got to the counter he saw only one person working, your face even more beautiful in person than the picture he was given with your business info. One look at you and your warm, inviting shop told Tom that there was nothing secretly happening in the back that he could infiltrate and reap the benefits of. 

He watched as you handled the cash till with ease before moving just out of sight behind the massive espresso machine, only to appear once more with a smile on your face as you helped the next person. 

The rush of the mid morning could have been weighing on you, however, you didn’t let it show on your face. Instead you talked to everyone with the same warm and inviting tone as you took their orders and made their drinks… and he was captivated by you. 

Nothing more was spoken between the two of you that day other than his drink order but that didn’t stop Tom from instantly wanting to know more about you, other than the small bit of info his men were able to gather for him.

Tom admired you from afar and during your encounters over the following weeks he added to the list of things he knew about you. He also had gathered as much to know that you worked and seemed to run this business all on your own. A fact that equally impressed Tom while at the same time made him want to hire one or two employees to lighten the workload for you.

He also took notice that there were a lot of people that followed your little library’s honor code, the sentiment bringing joy to a lot of your guests when they found a certain book, and the few who did not obey it didn’t seem to affect your outlook on it all.

On one of his visits he was sitting in one of the oversized chairs in the corner by the window when he overheard you explaining to a guest who had asked his same question. You had just smiled and explained that the books were there to be enjoyed, so while one person may only be able to take a book another could bring in a whole box full of books waiting for a new home… which you were sure of since you had 5 boxes in the back you were gifted, when someone had moved, so you could restock when necessary.

If Tom was honest with himself that was the moment where he first fell a little bit in love with you. He has not been a man to want for much these last couple of years, but he knew right then that if nothing else, he had started to feel something for you. He wanted you, he wanted you to be his in every sense of the word and he wanted to protect you, even though he was more than sure you could hold your own.

He knew that you more than likely had no idea who he was apart from a semi-regular customer and he also knew from spending exactly 10 minutes in your shop that very first day that you were too good of a person to be shown the ugly side of his world if he were to unabashedly let himself love you.

All of that also meant he wasn’t going to just _not_ look out for you.

When you turn back around, facing him once more with your hands on your hips, the corners of his mouth twitch. He licks his lips to fight off his smile threatening to break free and shakes his head in a small movement towards you “Stand down love, was merely a _tip_ of insider knowledge, you know- one business owner to the other.”

Making a face you humor him with a little nod “Right.”

“You don’t seem to like me much-” Tom trails off, keeping his inquisitive eyes on you to gauge how exactly it is you do feel about him.

“Are you going to order something or can I get on with closing down?” you take a page from his book and ask your own question instead of answering him and he chuckles to himself, continuing on with his previous statement “-Which is interesting since we’ve never _truly_ spoken before tonight”

You take a calming breath in and level him with a look “Look mystery dude next door,-”

“Tom,” he fills in quickly and you raise a curious brow at him when he throws in a cheeky wink “And it’s below your next door, remember?”

Your fingers grip onto the counter as you give yourself a second, breathing out a silent frustrated huff. 

When you see the twinkle in his eye that he’s absolutely loving getting you all riled up you produce the smile you offer your very first customer in the morning and continue on as if his smooth accented voice rolling his name off his tongue and cheeky wink didn’t send shivers down your arms “It’s been a really long day and I close in 3 minutes. So if you’re not ordering anything it would be just swell if you could go on back down your dim lighted stairs and party with your patrons until 3 in the morning like every other night and leave me to clean up.”

Tom smirks with that, scrunching his nose slightly as he asks through his amazement “Have you been to my bar, love?”

“No,” you respond without missing a beat, the nonchalant attitude intriguing Tom even more. His face remains the same, the smirk deepening as he nods his head towards you “Right, then how do you know about my evenings?”

Your eyes move from the clock on the screen of the till, one minute till closing now, and connect with his “I probably hear a little bit too much of your evenings”

Tom jerks his head back with your answer, his brows raising comically “Do you really? You live in your shop, do you? Is there a hidey bed in the back?”

“A hidey bed- are you 5?” you scoff through a humourless laugh, the sound of it still managing to keep the smile on Tom’s face.

“Yes” he answers you, chuckling at the look you throw him before he adds on “Give or take another 20 years… is this why you don’t seem to like me much- my business and clientele keep you awake into the early mornings?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, not a full on glare but it’s getting there, however before you can reply he adds on “Adding on a night shift and bringing in more sales to the plastered patrons leaving next door could secure you living in a decent flat, you know? Surely something better than your storage closet you’ve got back there.”

Rolling your eyes you check the time on the screen once more, seeing it’s three minutes _past_ closing now. You grab the keys out of the basket hidden under the register and walk through the gap in the counter.

Tom watches your movements with interest seeing you walk past him and throw your words over your shoulder “If you must know, no, I do not live in my shop-”

Relief fills Tom to hear that because while he was fine to joke around with you just now, he was anonymously going to gift you a fucking flat in the morning if he found out you were serious.

Before he can reply though, you come to a stop at the door and spin on your toes to face him again as you announce “I live above it.”

The fact that you live above your cafe shop surprises Tom, his brows raising on their own accord the proof of that.

“Now if you don’t mind…” you trail off, oblivious to what your words mean to him and jam the key into the lock, setting your hand on the handlebar of the closed door while looking at Tom expectantly.

That bit of info surprised him for no other reason than he hadn’t already known it.

Part of looking out for you meant he wanted to make sure you were getting home safely every night… which proved to be difficult as he never could catch you when you left after locking up your shop’s door. That fact might have resulted in him doing a bit more research on you and any known addresses linked to your name.

He figured when the only address that came up for you was this one for your shop that you must live with family he couldn’t find, or maybe even that you were staying with a friend and therefore not on a lease.

Never would he have imagined you lived above your shop. He hasn’t seen the state of the flats above these shops, but one look from outside was enough that he didn't need to in order to know it’s not good enough for you.

Tom runs his fingers through his hair, laying it back into place on top of his head at the same time he’s walking towards you.

You offer a small smile in thanks that he’s taking the cue to leave and you begin to open the door, letting in the freezing January evening air when he squashes that relieved thought of you finally getting to lock up.

As soon as he stops in front of you he reaches his arm out, the veins in his hand and forearm even more prominent as he grips the handle of the door. Tom closes the small gap with the door you had made and quickly turns the lock into place “Well that’s not very safe”

“Not leaving and letting me lock my door when I want to, yes I agree wholeheartedly” you challenge and Tom tilts his head to the side slightly. If he’s honest with himself he’d admit how much he loves your wit he’s gotten to experience first hand tonight, however, as it seems he’s choosing to ignore that and instead levels you with a look “Come now darling, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Oh.

Well, you weren’t exactly sure you needed to hear him calling you darling for the rest of your days but here we are.

You clear your throat, your attempt at seeming unfazed by his words, and look up at him “How is living above my shop not safe?”

Tom has to breathe in deeply through his nose to keep his anger at bay and he looks away from you for a moment. He quickly slides his hand through the front of his hair again, the action causing the few strands to fall onto his forehead once more and this time you see his hands more closely.

The backs of his knuckles are covered in bruises varying in degrees of healing and a few cuts that look inflamed from not being treated as carefully as they should be. You briefly wonder where he got them and why- figuring with the other things you’ve witnessed from time to time it’s best not to wonder.

Tom gains your attention when he lifts his arm to indicate your shop behind you and gruffly replies “Someone breaks in here they easily can get to you upstairs.”

Laughing softly with that, for some reason you feel the need to reassure him “ _You_ didn’t even know I live upstairs and besides there’s 4 deadbolt doors between this place and mine so plenty of time for the alarm going off in here to ward off anyone breaking in who means me harm.”

Tom is not satisfied with that and he breathes out angrily. This is why he wanted to look out for you. You may have your own business in the heart of the city but how is he supposed to know that you can actually protect yourself if the situation should arise?

Mentally he goes through different reasons he could give for wanting to check your alarm, see these deadbolts and how sturdy the doors meant to keep you safe actually are.

You, however, surprise the shit out of him and grab his hand. Your touch is gentle, so soft and warm. His eyes quickly fall to your small hands as you lift the back of his towards you “These will get infected, would you humor me and let me clean them for you?”

“I’m fine, love” comes his gruff response and your eyes immediately snap up to his, halting his next words.

The way you’re looking up at him ensures he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he usually just pours whichever alcohol is near him on the cuts, calling it good on cleaning them- which he already did yesterday after he got them.

Instead he licks his suddenly dry lips, nodding before he’s even thinking about it “Quick clean would be nice, actually.”

Checking that the door is closed and securely locked, you shut off the lights and lead Tom into the back kitchen area. You have him sit down while you go about grabbing the first aid kit and sit down beside him, getting to work with putting some disinfecting ointment on the smattering of cuts that are red.

A comfortable silence settles over you both as you gently clean his knuckles and Tom takes advantage of the up close opportunity. He watches your face while you work, his eyes slowly moving over every centimeter of your features as his heart seems to be hammering in his chest louder than usual.

Trying to distract himself from being this close to you for the first time, he clears his throat and decides to fill the silence “So you know how to treat this mess- were you going to school to be a doctor or something before you took over the family business?”

“What makes you think I took over the family business?” you ask without looking up, your brows twitching a little with your question and how he came to that realization.

“Quick search would result in seeing the previous name of the shop and the owner-” he clears his throat once more when you look up at him and he murmurs thoughtfully “Who passed on the business location to her niece, who in return impressed a lot of neighboring businesses when she spent only a few months renovating and turned this place around not that long ago.”

Slowly you move your eyes back and forth between his, not really knowing what to say to the fact that he apparently knows who you are and what other people on the block think of your little shop. You make a noise in your throat and go back to finishing up with his injuries, choosing to answer his previous question “I, uh, I went to school in hopes of owning my own business but I did learn how to tend to minor cuts and injuries when I learned cpr.”

“You know cpr?” Tom asks, his tone clearly impressed and you smile up at him “I own a small business near Times Square that, depending on the time of day or time of year, could take too long for paramedics to get to. Of course I felt the need to take a course to become cpr certified.”

Tom looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face, his voice barely above a whisper “You’re unlike most people, y/n, you know that?”

“What do you mean?” you ask and Tom seems to come back to himself, making a noise and sitting back in his seat more “Most people are squeamish at the sight of blood and injuries one only gets from a fight.”

Mirroring his reaction, you place his hands on his thighs and move to start cleaning up the wrappers from the supplies you used “Um, my stomach definitely couldn’t handle being a doctor but this wasn’t so bad.”

“Can I tell you something?” Tom’s voice cuts over the sounds of wrappers crumpling and you make a noise indicating for him to go on, which he does a few seconds later “You deserve better, y/n.”

“Deserve better than what?” you spare him a glance as you stand up and move to throw away the remnants of the items you used.

With your back to him Tom rushes out “You deserve better than working 15 hours a day, 7 days a week. You deserve better than living in a tiny flat above the shop that takes up too much time of your life. You deserve to actually fucking live.”

You scoff lightheartedly at him and try to keep the conversation light “Hey I happen to love running this shop and how homey I’ve made my apartment upstairs.” 

Tom shakes his head and keeps his eyes on yours “I’m sure it’s as lovely as you are but you deserve to feel safe and secure and looked after.”

“I do feel safe” you counter to the only point he said that you can counter against and Tom makes a noise in his throat “How could you possibly feel safe? There’s 4 thin doors separating you from this place! You need a proper alarm for your own flat and a doorman with security would be preferable as well, someone who is _securely_ looking out for _you_ 24/7.”

Without really thinking you shrug your shoulders and blurt out “Well I know you’re here every night when I lock up down here and besides the only action our back alley sees is from you and your friends. Plus your car is in the alley until dawn most nights, so if I were to be in trouble one good scream would alert one of the men you have stationed in the alley that my 4 doors and alarm let me down.”

Your words cause Tom to pause, however, before you’re able to really ponder how you probably shouldn’t have blurted out that you notice him and his car that much, he looks down to his bruised hands and gently asks “How are you so sure I’m not the one you should need protecting from?”

The previous frustration and anger regarding your safety no longer entangle his words and you can tell there’s more behind those words he asked, a vulnerability you’re not used to hearing from him, so you reply just as gently “You visit me much too often if you wanted to cause me harm.”

Tom makes a face and offers quickly “Everyone needs coffee and a good cupcake from day to day.”

“My motto indeed,” you smile and mutter thoughtfully, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as you go on “Though they wouldn’t sit in the corner by the window thinking they were out of sight from me for two hours during the morning rush once a week”

“‘S not once a week” Tom counters and you nod your head with that “No, there were those first three weeks where you sat for an extended time twice each week...”

Tom doesn’t get nervous, he’s used to knowing all the information before walking into any situation. He does his research, he leaves no stone unturned to ensure he’s not caught off guard when he tries to resolve an issue or reason with someone.

Then here you are knocking him flat on his ass and surprising him with new information at every turn in this conversation he’s had with you for the last hour.

“You’re very observant, y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” Tom questions as he stands up and walks towards you at the same time you’re nodding “A lot of people have, yes.”

Tom stops in front of you, the cold calculating stare and sharp jaw of his mixing with the gentle tone of his words “Do you know who I am then?”

Swallowing hard, you keep your unwavering eyes connected with his “I have my suspicions.”

Raising his arm in between you both Tom brushes your cheek with the back of his fingers “And you’re not wanting to stay away from me?”

“No” you reply softly, resting your hands on his chest. Tom grips your hip with one hand, the other sliding into your hair to hold you to him as he rests his forehead on yours “Even though you should?”

“Kiss me and I’ll let you know” you whisper and just see Tom’s eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile before he’s pulling you close and capturing your lips with his. Moving your lips in sync with his, you wrap your arms behind his neck and push yourself against him, feeling his grip on your waist increase with every movement. 

Tom groans with the feeling of you finally against him, your lips even softer than he’s imagined them being since the first day he met you.

He kisses you like he’s known you forever, he kisses you like you’re leaving and he won’t see you for a while and you absolutely love it. You’ve never been held or kissed like this before, like you’re all anyone wants and you never want to lose this feeling. 

One last deep kiss causes you to almost whimper when Tom pulls back only far enough to rest his forehead on yours once more, both of you breathless. 

His hands still hold you tightly to him as he moves his nose along yours, his warm brown eyes connecting with yours “Have dinner with me tomorrow, darling.”


End file.
